


I can't even recognize myself (Lucky13 #6)

by megyal



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Crossdressing, Halloween, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-09
Updated: 2013-11-09
Packaged: 2017-12-31 23:21:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1037599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/megyal/pseuds/megyal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three years of All Hallows' Eve.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I can't even recognize myself (Lucky13 #6)

**Author's Note:**

> 'cross-dressing'' for geinahop@LJ. The title is from 'Change your mind' by The Killers.

_oct 31, 2000_

"Who are _you_ supposed to be?"

 _Not_ the sort of question Draco expected on his first day released from probation, but he should have known better to stalk into a bar as soon as the tracking spell had been lifted. This Wizarding bar in particular had a costume theme going on, and Draco belatedly recalled the date: October 31, All Hallows' Eve. 

Fuck it.

Draco eyed the witch who stood squinting at him, sporting what appeared to be a lobster costume.

"I'm Draco Malfoy," he said, very flatly and took a sip from his drink in what he hoped was a dismissive manner. 

The witch nodded. "It's pretty good, that get-up," and Draco glanced down at his serviceable black robes, wrinkling his brow. "You'll do well in the competition, but I think the real Malfoy's hair is more white-blond, don't you?"

Draco spluttered but the witch wriggled her fingers at him and slunk away. "What competition?!" he shouted at her, but his voice could hardly compete with the heavy music.

"The competition for best costume," a horribly familiar voice spoke up at his left and Draco froze for a few beats. Then, he turned very slowly and glared at Potter, who had on a very outrageous costume of a ratty t-shirt and ripped jeans. "I think your Draco Malfoy is pretty good, but there's a bloke on the other end who has a very convincing sneer, I have to tell you."

"What," Draco said, just as flatly as before, and then let his gaze flicker around the shadowy room. Fine, so he'd missed the plethora of Dumbledores and Harry Potters when he'd first come in, but he'd had a mighty thirst. Now that he'd gotten a few drinks in him, he could see a good number of Snapes, one very ill-advised Voldemort, four McGonagalls and at least three other Dracos.

"It's stupid, isn't it?" Potter said when Draco turned an incredulous gaze towards him. 

"Why are you even talking to me?" Draco demanded and Potter shrugged, leaning on one elbow on the bar's surface. 

"Well." Potter pursed his stupid lips. "I'm your Observer. I'm the Auror assigned to watch you, make sure you're not getting yourself into trouble again."

"Are you supposed to _tell_ me that?" Draco glared at him. He considered just getting up and walking away. Potter shrugged again.

"No, but you're clever enough. You'd figure it out sooner or later." Potter raised two fingers to the bartender, and a goblet floated into his hand. "Besides, it's an easy assignment, thank Merlin. Missing out that final year at Hogwarts really was a bad choice, there's a lot of stuff that I'm trying to catch up with now."

"Kindly stop addressing me as if we're mates," Draco told him. Potter rolled his eyes.

"Get over yourself," Potter replied, sharp but not unkindly. "Anyway, they're judging the Harry Potter costumes now, I'm going up to the stage."

"I hope you lose," Draco said and Potter had the gall to laugh at him as he strolled off.

+

_oct 31, 2001_

"Am I still under surveillance, Auror Potter?" Draco asked as he looked at Potter out of the corner of his eye. "What are you supposed to be this year?"

"An orphan," Potter replied. His tone was very even, and light reflected off the lenses of his glasses, obscuring his eyes. "The same thing every year, aren't I?"

Draco opened his mouth to retort, and then he recalled that bit about Potter's parents.

"Sorry about that," he said, half-begrudgingly, half-genuinely mortified at his lack of protocol. His mother would be disappointed if she ever heard he'd been so tactless to her new favourite, Harry Potter. "It must be a difficult time for you."

Potter tilted up his chin slightly, and that unsettling blank lightness over his eyes slid away. He blinked at Draco. "It's not so bad, really," he admitted, and a faint smile graced his lips. "I mean, I don't remember anything about that night. So, you know, all I can do is visit their graves and then go to work."

 _Visit their graves_. Draco, who loved his parents to the point of delusion sometimes (and he was well aware of that), could hardly imagine visiting their graves. 

"Are you going to try again for the costume competition?" Draco asked, and Harry Potter actually laughed.

Potter said, "Maybe I'll do better than last year's third place."

Draco chuckled and Potter gave him a long, speculative look.

"I've an idea: we should go as female versions of ourselves. For next year," Potter said, nodding in such a determined manner that Draco found himself nodding as well. He stopped himself and tried to scowl.

"That is a horrible idea, Potter." Draco folded his arms over his chest. Potter grinned in a mischievous and frankly attractive manner. Draco scowled again and looked away so he wouldn't stare at Potter's mouth.

"Hey Potter," he said and stared down into his drink instead, "try to get first place this year around."

+

_oct 31, 2002_

Draco didn't expect to be hugged so tightly from behind and thus spilled half his drink down his long-sleeved white shirt and dark, pleated skirt. 

"You look fantastic!" Potter yelled in his ear and practically galloped around him to get a closer look. All Draco had was the impression of lots of dark curls, because Potter was hugging him _again_ , what the fuck. 

" _Potter_." Draco held him away by the shoulders and eyed him. Potter had apparently used the same spell to grow his hair but instead of stopping just past his shoulders as Draco did, he'd let it go on to the middle of his back. His skirt stopped below his knee; Draco had just said _fuck it_ and had made his own as tight and short as possible, the black leggings demonstrating the admirable climb of his legs.

He had nice legs, what.

"You have nice legs!" Potter bellowed and actually clapped in delight. He wore lipstick and eyeshadow and really, the mascara hadn't been necessary because Potter had the lashes of a mooncalf...but the effect was very lovely.

"We are definitely going to win this year," Potter said and the expression on his face was one of anticipatory glee. 

" _We_?" Draco asked, even as he felt a small grin tugged at his mouth. It felt rusty, that grin, but good.

"Yes." Potter held out his hand and waited, his gaze fixed on Draco's. "Come on, Dragomira."

Draco laughed, completely incredulous. What was his life right now? His hand was in Potter's before he could think about it too hard.

"Very well, _Harriet_. We'd better win, too."

Potter tugged him towards the small stage on the opposite side of the bar. "We'll win together."

+

They won. 

It was only a stupid sash, but Draco kept it in his special drawer, anyway.

 

_fin_


End file.
